Cement Walls
by GreyMoth
Summary: Alfred never knew how messed up his family really was; never realized what happened while he was away. If he had, maybe he would have been prepared to see his brother stand trial. Dark!Matthew, Serious!Alfred. Dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I have a play on FictionPress that I wrote in grade 12 for my final (For What We Believe, under the same pen name) and I made the mistake of remembering it. That spawned this, andohgawdi'msosorry.**

**WARNINGS: Yes, there will be warnings for this one; it is completely different from my normal Hetalia fics. I will post them for each chapter because THERE WILL BE DARK THEMES. And INCEST, but this is me so thats part of the package deal here and should be of no surprise.  
I dedicate this chapter to Capitaine Pickle. She is seriously an amazing author on here, and I'm sorry for being so awkward *le sigh*  
**

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It was cold; a chilling, numbing cold that crept inside and buried itself within your very bones. Alfred breathed out gently between his lips, almost surprised at not being able to see his breath. Beneath him the chair remained frozen, the metal not warming up even with his body heat.

"Alfred Jones?" a man's voice asked, frigid and unattached. The man himself was pale, washed out, the only colour his dark hair and suit.

"That's- that's me," Alfred cleared his throat as he stood up and stretched out his hand, "Can I see him now?"

The faded blue eyes looked him over, quickly and efficiently seeking and finding wanting, "Yes, but we ask that you keep the visit short. Too long may agitate him. Or you."

Alfred fell in step behind him, watching the man's back as they passed through grey corridors, the cold never leaving. If anything it became even more bitter, more biting, as they drew closer to a stainless steel door.

"This is it. We will be watching through video feed in case anything happens, but there is also a button by the door, so press that when you want to leave. If you do manage to stay the hour then we will come get you."

"Thank you, Doctor." Alfred kept his gaze steady, willing the doctor to look away first before his resolve really did snap.

"Just remember that he is not the brother you use to know. This is who he really is so going in there is going to ruin any delusions of love you once had for him."

"I'll decide that for myself," Alfred snarled, reaching around the man to grab the door handle, "I suggest you go watch those cameras now."

He didn't wait to find out how the man reacted to his words, instead pushing his way forcefully into the room that was bare except for a table and two chairs. One of which was already occupied; the young man sitting there looked pale and sickly, but still beautiful in an unearthly way.

Beautiful like winter. And just as merciless.

"Alfred," a blinding white smile appeared, still so innocent, and still so mocking. The figure tried to stand, arms outstretching for a hug until the chains tugged him back, keeping him pinned him to the concrete.

"Mattie," he chocked, dying to walk around the table, sweep away bonds, and gather his brother into his arms. He couldn't though, the rules had clearly stated that he was not allowed within touching distance.

"I thought I wasn't allowed visitors until my trail is over," Matthew gazed at him curiously with vacant lilac eyes, his mouth settling into a frown.

Alfred shivered, rubbing his arms as he sat down slowly, warily breaking eye contact, "They made an exception for me. I told them I wanted to hear everything from you first. I want to know the truth, Mattie."

"Oh Alfred," he heard faintly breathed across the table, "I've hurt you, haven't I. After everything, and now you're mad at me."

Alfred looked up sharply, his glare meant to frighten but it had no effect on Matthew. If anything it was the reason the lips became unpursed as the corners curled up into a smirk.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Alfred told him, trying to make it truth.

"Shall we start at the beginning then?" Matthew asked, leaning forward as the chains clinked together, "Give me a beginning, Alfred. Ask me."

Alfred took a deep breath, the spoke out softly, "When. When did you change."

Laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls as Matthew's head was thrown back in mirth, "So that is your beginning. Seems fitting, because it is. I've been like this at the beginning, ever since you decided to play the hero.

"See, every hero needs a villain, and I was willing to play that part for you even if all you made me was you damsel."

**14 Years Ago**

"Mattie!" A young boy raced over to the hunched 6year old, tearing the book away with grubby hands, "Come play with us!"

Matthew raised his head and smiled while reaching for his book, trying to keep his frustration from showing, "No thanks, Al. You go ahead without me."

"Pleeeeease? With a cherry on top? C'mon, you never play with us anymore."

"That's because I'm _busy_, Alfred. And I have my own friends to play with now," Matthew immediately wanted to take back his words the moment he said them, now having to watch Alfred's eyes well up with tears.

"Mattiiiieeee," his brother sniffled, drawing out his name pitifully, "You're my brother so you're supposed to play with me, not other people."

Matthew desperately wanted to point out that Alfred was being unfair, that Alfred was playing with other people, but he stopped himself.

"One game," he compromised, "Then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the day."

"Okay." Alfred nodded, but the hurt look was still there as he handed back the book, "But you really should play with us; you just sit here and read or watch and some of my friends don't like it."

Darkness coiled in Matthew's gut, churning and curling in on itself until he wanted to vomit black. It was his duty to watch over Alfred, to make sure his little brother and self proclaimed hero was safe.

"Tell them to mind their own business," he snapped, getting to his feet and dusting himself off angrily, "Let's go."

Alfred nodded and led the way back to the group, only smiling again when the other boys waved at them. Matthew watched them, forcing a smile on his face even as he longed to reach out and punch the little Italian boy that was hugging his brother.

"Let's play Cops and Robbers! I'll be the cop and Mattie can be my sidekick."

"Feliciano and I will be the robbers," Ludwig sighed, so serious for someone so young.

Matthew approved of the intelligence, though it would make things more complicated.

"I will be a robber also," a small oriental boy added, taking his place on the other side of Ludwig.

The group broke into two, Matthew, Alfred, Vash, and Yong-Soo took the place as cops, while Feliciano, Ludwig, Kiko, and Romano became robbers. Matthew watched in silence as the people took their sides, feeling envy for their freedom at being able to choose.

A hand wrapped itself into his, holding tightly as his brother beamed, setting up his own rules for the game. Matthew didn't listen, instead choosing to watch his opponents beneath his eyelashes, trying to figure out how to best get rid of them.

None of the other boys noticed his expression harden, or his mouth curling into a smile when he was finally set loose. Only the Italian brothers would have to forcefully be told off, the others would take their cue from them.

No one noticed him vanishing, not even his brother who had insisted he join. No one, that is, except for the brother who had hugged his own, and by then it was too late.

Feliciano returned to the meeting spot shaken, eyes dark as they avoided Matthew. Romano had less tact, but even more fear, his wide and blackened eyes keeping close tabs on an apathetic Matthew.

But Matthew still stared back, not at the bruises, but at the blood that dribbled down from Romano's nose. It was beautiful and disgusting, his very being torn between the two sides; one part upset with what he had down, while the other delighted in it. In seeing the darker Italian tackle his brother so that he had a reason to be rough, to put more effort and time into driving the boy away.

No one hurt his brother.

**Present**

"You said that you had just tackled Romano too hard. That it was an accident, and they supported you!"

Matthew smiled at him with no sign of remorse, "They had to be told to stay away from you, and words did not work on those two. You should have seen them, Alfred! They looked so shocked when they realized that your brother wasn't a push over like you described."

"I never-"

"You always warned people to go easy on me. Told them that if they hurt me you would go after them. Is it so wrong that I did the same for you?"

"Don't twist this," Alfred begged, feeling the words fall from his tongue like molasses; disgusting, thick, and dark, "I only did it to protect you, so that you wouldn't get hurt."

"And I did the same for you. I kept away all the people that would use you."

Alfred opened his mouth, already drawing in breath to speak when the door opened, pushed forward by a thick hand for the Doctor to walk inside unhindered.

"Ah, Doctor Murray, what a pleasure." Matthew said pleasantly, his body language changing before Alfred's eyes, becoming closed off but pleasant, and his voice polite and respectful.

"Your visit is over. Alfred can come back tomorrow if he wants, even though I have strongly voiced against it."

"But Peter, you of all people should know no harm will come to my brother by my hands."

"It's not your hands I worry about, but your tongue. Now let's go."

Alfred stood up, feeling his muscles unwind from their locked position, "I'll come back tomorrow," he promised, turning back to face his brother when he got to the doorway, "I'll keep coming until I know everything."

Matthew smiled at him, eyes soft with impossible emotion, "I know you will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Nothing really, just Matt being a bad-ass and threatening someone  
Thank you so much to Cheerful Black Rose, and Ruth-La for reviewing. You're both awesome. As are the people who put this on their alert list.  
This one is dedicated to Product Of A Sick Society. I am still waiting for that sequel to Current Events and Stupid Sibling Things (which is really awesome, btw.)  
**

* * *

Alfred was the first one to the room, leaving him nothing to do but stare at the blank walls while tapping his fingers against the cold metal table. No sound filtered in from the outside, giving him a claustrophobic feeling that welled in his gut before crawling up his throat.

A soft click behind him and the door swung open, bringing in more of the air-conditioned air that he had hoped he had left. Footsteps shuffled across the room, mixing in underneath the heavy trod of the guards and the musical jingle of the chains.

Matthew sat down across from him, back straight and eyes clear, reflective like glass orbs. A smile was on his brother's face, a soft thing that held neither interest nor amusement; but to Alfred it held all the love he wished was there.

"One hour," Peter warned, "Then we'll be back. I'll be watching."

"Good- bye, Peter," Matthew replied sweetly, voice honeyed as it flowed past Alfred's ears. Their eyes remained on each other, though; neither one looking away as the door slammed shut.

"It's good to see you again, Alfred. I was worried that you would be too busy to come and visit me."

"I still have questions, Mattie. I told you I wasn't going to leave you alone until I know everything."

"Then you are going to be chasing me down for a long time," Matthew said as he put his hands on the table and stretched out his fingers, "So what would you like to know today?"

"Were you the one that killed Hercules' cat?"

Matthew stilled as Alfred watched, then his brother laughed, "You came all this way to ask about a cat? No, that wasn't me. Remember Sadiq? He accidently ran it over while learning how to drive, that's why those two hate each other.

"I never killed unless it was for you. Animals always loved you so I never had a reason, and I am more fond of them than the company you kept."

Alfred stared at him in silence, mind mulling over the new information until a thought occurred, one that he would have laughed off immediately if he had thought of it before his life was torn out from underneath him.

"What about Ivan?"

Matthew's head tilted with curiousity that didn't reach his eyes, "What about him?"

"Did you do the same to him that you did to the Vargas brothers? After I came home bruised from a fight with him, he didn't touch me after that. No matter how hard I tried to piss him off he would just freeze and look past me until he calmed down."

A true smile this time, flashing teeth that were still blinding white, "He hurt you."

"_What did you do_?"

**4 Years Ago**

"Oh my god, Alfred, what happened to you!?"

Matthew looked up from his homework as his brother waltz in, covered in mud, bruises, and blood that looked to be only half his. Their mother fussed over him, cupping the mottled cheeks in her hands before racing away to get a damp cloth.

"I was just playing with some friends and I fell down the hill. You should have seen us when we hit the bottom!"

"I don't want you to be playing with those boys anymore; they're too dangerous! It's bad enough that you insist on being in all of those dangerous sports-"

"Awe, c'mon, mum, it's no biggy. This is nothing!" Alfred caught her hands and leaned over to give her cheek a kiss, completely oblivious to Matthew watching. He always was, and Matthew wasn't always sure if he should be thankful or not.

Their mother smiled at her bruised boy, ruffling his hair lovingly, "Okay, but no more coming home bloody or else I'm calling the school. Now go get cleaned up supper."

Matthew waited until Alfred had left before starting up his homework again, only nodding to Mother when she told him to move to his room before she tripped over his mess. No one got bruises like that from rolling down a hill, even if it was with a group of friends.

Alfred confirmed his suspicions that night when his brother snuck into his room, diving under his covers without asking to tell about his heroic fight. A boy named Ivan had been picking on a smaller boy and no one had bothered to step in. That is, no one until Alfred caught sight of it and raced in.

The two had been at odds at once, each the exact definition of what rubbed the other person wrong. Alfred had thrown the first punch, and the first words of aggression, proudly claiming it in defense of those weaker than him. Matthew just listened, wrapped in the cocoon of blankets and the warmth from having his brother close, pretending not to care and chiding his brother for acting rashly, but taking in everything that he could use later.

And use he did. Two weeks of setting up, of waiting patiently, and now he had Ivan where he wanted him. The boy had grown paler during the time he had watched, the amethyst eyes more haunted as he grew thinner.

"Ivan," Matthew purred, pressing his lips against the ash blond hair as he pinned the larger boy against the wall of the deserted classroom, "Oh Ivan, what have you been doing, hurting my brother like that."

He could feel the muscles of Ivan's body tense, desperately trying to escape the pain of having his arm wrenched behind his back.

"Shhhhh, easy now," his nails dug in cruelly as he tightened his grip, "You still haven't thanked me yet for all of the little gifts I've been sending you. Seems a bit rude, don't you think?"

"You can't do this,"

Matthew grinned, a delightful shiver running down his spine at the defiance, "I think you'll find that I can." He pushed a bit harder, feeling the muscles and bones bowing under his fingertips as Ivan hissed in pain.

"I'll make you pay," Ivan ground out, the words muffled through the clenched teeth.

"Now there is the problem, because you won't. And you will never touch Alfred again, even if it is because someone bumps you into him, you will make yourself fall another way. If you don't," here he paused, pressing forward until he completely surrounded the other teen, "You'll find that my presents have specific uses."

A tremor in the body beneath him, and he stepped back, dragging his fingers over the crescent marks that beaded crimson.

"Not a word of this to anyone, Ivan. You don't touch Alfred and nothing will happen to you by my hands."

**Present**

"What did you send him?" Alfred asked, voice hushed as he forced down nausea.

"This and that. Mostly knives, a few ropes, large rocks. Scissors, matches, a bullet, I even sent him some plants, and a dead spider once."

"You never hit him?"

"I did, when we fought before I pinned him, and a few times when he had the urge to rebel. But I was always careful to only hit where his clothes would hide it."

"Mattie-"

"You were safe, Alfred. When Ivan backed off and left you alone it was like a signal for other people to do the same. They all assumed he was scared of you, and by their standards someone that Ivan is afraid of was not to be messed with."

"But you would come home with bruises all the time! Why did you never stand up for yourself if you could take them?"

Matthew had frozen, for once the glass shattering to bare his soul. In that moment Alfred saw fear, hatred, and twisted amusement before he was cut off, the evidence of his brother's humanity hidden once more.

"Sometimes it's not worth the effort to fight back. You were safe, and that is all that mattered."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Are we back to that? Really, Alfred."

The door opened behind him, jerking his gaze from Matthew's as he looked over to the guard that stood blocking the doorway.

"Time for me to leave, but I will be waiting for you. For tomorrow."

"Matthew, did the parents-"

"Did you know that Arthur had a crush on you in grade twelve?" he was cut off quickly, Matthew speaking up before he was finished even as the guard dragged him from the room, "How about I answer your questions about why Arthur left you, and why we stopped being just brothers."

The door shut only inches from his fingers before it was opened again, this time by Peter, "Good chat?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

**This wasn't supposed to be posted until I finished another chapter, but I'm so hooked on Supernatural that I have no time DX Blame one of my co-workers, she did this to me. I'm also starting school, like everyone else, so updates may take a few extra days.  
Warnings: Same as last chapter + mentions of verbal abuse and the start of incestuous content (but nothing hardcore).  
Dedication: This is for Zanteh, 'ti voglio un bene dell'anima even if you will never see this.  
****Thank you to CBJC, 91RedRoses, Ruthe-La, Cheerful Black Rose, Product Of A Sick Society, ncalkins, and ChocoVanille, your words were greatly appreciated. As were the favourites and the alerts. Thank you.**

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"You look tired, Alfred." The concern in Matthew's voice was genuine; the soft cadence of words that his ears struggled to pick up was like a soothing balm to his frantic mind.

"What happened to Arthur?"

"Nothing. He moved to one a bit further away and has since lived life happily and untroubled. Or so I assume."

"I never saw him at any of the other schools, and none of my friends had seen him either," Alfred narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "How far is 'a bit further'?"

"A State over. He went to go live with relatives."

"You drove him a whole State away just because he had a crush on me?"

Matthew's fingers stilled from where they had been playing piano on the table, his eyes darkening with an emotion Alfred couldn't read. Didn't want to read.

"I put up with your girlfriends, but I was not going to put up with some British boy watching you constantly. Your girls only ever lasted a few weeks at a time, but somehow I knew that if you were caught by him you would be trapped longer."

"So even then…"

"No, I never felt that way about you until him. I never considered it a possibility until I realized it was probable, that maybe it could work and that maybe we could love each other more. You always told me that I was only yours, so I decided to make that a reality."

"Tell me."

"Ask me. Ask me exactly what you want to know."

"What did you do to Arthur?"

Matthew leaned back, his arms falling to lay straight down his body as his stance widened, sinking into a more comfortable position. He looked completely relaxed, completely comfortable with sitting still while Alfred shivered and hunched forward in on himself.

"Shall we start at the beginning?" Matthew asked back, a half smirk appearing, "It all started when he first joined our class; he sat behind us at the opposite end of the room, and even on that first day he stared at you."

**3 Years Ago**

Matthew watched the teacher with half closed eyes, chin in hand and elbow propped up, trying not to fall asleep as she explained things he had figured out years ago. His parents had decided to keep him in the same grade as Alfred, even when various teachers had told them that he could move up, that he was bored and needed more of a challenge. He was fine like this though, Alfred was always beside him this way; he could feel the warm buzz of Alfred's presence, calming and familiar as it soothed the emotions that welled up within him.

A familiar feeling prickled the back of his neck, the feeling of eyes turned their way. A slight turn of head and a glance to the right, keeping his own gaze hidden, he caught the glint of green eyes before they turned away.

The new student was a problem waiting to happen, and Matthew's fingers started tapping the wooden table in thought until Alfred's hand curled around his own.

"What has you so frazzled, bro?" he felt, more than heard, whispered into his ear.

"Just bored," he whispered back under the teachers glare. Alfred's whispering wasn't really whispering, it was more like peoples 'indoor voices'.

"I hate to break this touching moment, but this is the middle of class. If you need to speak that badly then why don't you share it with the rest of the class?"

Matthew's gaze jerked back to the teacher, lilac eyes deadly as she immediately paled, then flushed angrily.

"Mattie isn't feeling well," Alfred said before things became worse, though the concern in his voice made it clear that he had no idea he was interrupting a tense moment, "I'm going to take him to see the nurse."

"The nurse isn't in today,"

"Then he can take a nap. Come on, Matt."

The warm hand grabbed his again, pulling him up and away from the teacher who was standing speechless at the front of the class. Everyone else just continued as they were, talking with each other or texting, completely use to the twins suddenly pulling each other out of class at random times, but no one had warned the new teacher.

"You're going to get us in trouble," Matthew said mildly as he was dragged down the hallway, hand still clenched in his twins.

"Naw, all the other teachers will just tell her to get use to it before she bothers to phone our parents."

They passed the secretary, an older woman whose black hair was slowly greying, and Alfred waved, giving her a smile and a wink. She laughed, covering the phone with a hand as she called out a greeting and motioned them onwards, not bothering to ask what they wanted, just trusting that they would find their way.

"I'll stay with you until the bell rings, then I have to go to gym class or else I'm going to be reamed out."

Matthew smiled, giving the hand a squeeze before releasing it entirely and sitting down on the bed, "I'm fine, actually. I was just thinking about Arthur."

Shock and interest mingled inside of him when jealousy flashed across Alfred's face, the dark emotion looking odd on such a cheerful person. He had thought his brother above such an emotion now that they were young adults, but being proven wrong in this brought an odd thrill.

"Alfred?"

"Wha? Oh, sorry, just thinking." Alfred grumbled, sitting down beside him while staring at the wall.

Matthew laughed and placed his hand on Alfred's thigh, drawing the hyper active teen's attention back to him, "Don't hurt yourself," he teased gently, leaning forward under their foreheads touched.

Alfred's eyes slide closed, followed by Matthew's own, as their breaths mixed, their heartbeats evening out as they relaxed and their hands sought each other out.

They stayed like that until the bell rang, and then it was Matthew who moved back, brushing his lips against the corner of Alfred's mouth,

"You better get going," he said at last, not bothering to hide the wistfulness in his voice, and slowly released Alfred's hands, "I'll see you when you get home for supper."

"Mattie-"

Mathew hummed in recognition, gazing at Alfred with carefully blank eyes. Unlike him, Alfred was an open book of confusion and love wrapped up in yearning, and he couldn't resist reaching out to brush a few strands of hair away from the sky blue orbs.

The warning music started and Matthew finally stood up, casting one last look back at his brother from the doorway, "You better run," he warned, then left, hurrying down the hallway so that Alfred would not see his smirk.

If played correctly he would never have to share Alfred with anyone else.

**Present**

"What does this have to do with anything?" Alfred demanded, leaning over the table, hands braced against the cold metal.

Matthew smiled, leaning forward as far as the chains would let him, their noses just brushing as he tilted his head, ghosting his breath across Alfred's lips, "Always so impatient. See, if that had never happened I would not have gone to the party with you. Arthur would not have been torn apart enough that he left state. I would not have spent so much energy on making sure he stayed away."

**3 Years Ago**

"You look fine, bro. Honest. So stop fidgeting!"

Matthew untangled his fingers from the hem of his shirt and dropped his hand to his side with an annoyed grunt, "You know the parents are going to kill me if they find out that I snuck out to go to a party."

"Chill, I do this all the time and the parents don't care," a heartbeat of silence, then, "Gilbert, you fucktard! Haven't seen you in ages!"

"Don't call the awesome me a fucktard, dumbass!"

Matthew was left alone to walk up the front steps, a glance over showing him the wary look Alfred's albino friend was giving him. Gilbert, older brother of Ludwig, was the one hosting the party under the excuse of a 'Ludwig needs to loosen up' event. The two had never had any issues, but both were wary of the other and had come to an unspoken arrangement of tolerance.

Gilbert watched over Alfred while Matthew was away, and Matthew wouldn't fuck up Ludwig or Feliciano.

The house was shaking in time to the bass, very room filled with people in various stages of intoxication, some dancing, some just talking, and a few already throwing up in the bathrooms. It was chaos, and through it all Matthew could hear the heavily accented voice of one British student, his words already slurred even as he proudly proclaimed himself to be sober.

"I think you've had enough," he yelled over the music, taking the beer can from the insecure grip.

"Alfred! I didn't know you would be coming here," Arthur slurred, wrapping his arm around Matthew's shoulders while reaching to take the beer can again.

Matthew moved it away to quickly down it, watching the other teen from the corner of his eye.

"That was mine, you twat."

"Mhmm," Matthew agreed, licking his lips and watching as Arthur became even more flushed, his face taking on an unattractive purple hue, "Wait here, I'll go get us more."

He could feel the eyes watch him leave, glancing back only once to catch a glimpse of desire before it vanished, hidden behind an alcohol induced daze. Matthew sighed and headed off to snag two more beers from the freezer, popping one open to take a sip before heading back.

"Here," he pressed the cold can against the flushed cheek, smiling down at the clouded green eyes that stared up at him.

"Thank you, Alfred."

"Matthew, Alfred's twin brother. He said he was getting this for you then got distracted so I thought I should bring this."

The crushed look that got him almost made him smile, but he kept up the sympathetic expression as he sat down, "He's a really social guy, but a bit of an air head, so don't feel bad when he forgets about you."

Arthur smiled weakly before taking a long swing of beer while Matthew watched, sipping on his own until he lost interest in the downtrodden expression. Other people walked by, each going their own way with different purposes in mind; a few pausing to ask if they had seen a certain person while most ignored them.

It took a bit of silence, a few half hearted prompts, and another beer before Arthur opened up, admitting his mixed up feelings for Alfred, and the confusion he felt about finding himself liking another guy. Matthew listened patiently, nodding at all of the right parts and making sympathetic hums every now and then, all the while storing away any bit of information that was unwittingly given.

By the time Alfred came to find him Matthew had enough to set his plan into motion, and had stolen the other boy's phone to add his number. There was no hiding the longing in his eyes when Alfred drew near, or the hurt when his crush barely glanced at him.

Matthew just patted his leg and smiled before following a frowning Alfred outside and down the driveway, walking in tense silence, neither speaking until Alfred growled and caught his arm to yank him back, forcefully turning Matthew around to face him.

"Do you like him?"

"Well, sure," Matthew said pleasantly, trying not to laugh, "He's a very interesting individual."

"Matthew," Alfred warned, his grip tightening until Matthew flinched, trying to ignore the shiver that went down his spine by focusing on the pain.

"Alfred, I'm sixteen. I will be friends with who I want, just as I will date who I want."

"But you're mine," Alfred said, suddenly sounding confused. Matthew guessed it was a bit confusing for his brother who had always assumed that he would always be by his side

"I just need a bit of freedom, but we can still hang out and walk to and from school together."

Alfred didn't look happy but he nodded and dropped his hold, leaving marks that hid beneath Matthew's long sleeves, "If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

"You wont have to worry about that," Matthew laughed, ignoring the puzzled look that was back on Alfred's face.

Over the next few weeks Arthur and Matthew became closer, the two appearing inseparable while in school, even as Matthew whispered his poison. At first it was just passing remarks that could be taken either way, then slowly growing more barbed as time passed.

Within three months Arthur lost all of the other friends he had made, no longer looking them in the eye when he talked, and sitting by himself when Matthew wasn't there. He still kept his whip-like tongue, shooting back just as sarcastic retorts until Matthew looked him in the eye with a sharp glare.

Alfred became colder to the Brit, fueling many of Matthew's comments about Arthur's worthlessness, his inability to be loved, and his disgusting personality, pushing until the boy finally snapped.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Arthur hissed angrily, slamming him hands down on the table and leaping to his feet while Matthew calmly sipped on a juice box.

"Matthew Jones-Williams. We've been friends for how long now?" he raised his eyebrows mockingly, "Sit down, would you? You're causing a scene."

"Like you bloody care, you little snit. I can't believe I never realized what you've been doing."

"Oh?"

"What's going on here?"

Matthew glanced up, feeling his brother's presence at his back and a hand on his shoulder. Alfred looked livid, focusing completely on the one that was a threat to his twin while Matthew inwardly sighed and glanced around as the room quieted.

"Your brother is an asshole, that's what; and you don't even see it. He's been fucking lying to us-"

Alfred was across the table in seconds, already grabbing the other boy's shirt and swinging a right hook at his face before Matthew realized that he was gone. Another sigh, this one out loud, one more bite- letting Alfred get in a few good hits- (and Arthur too, his brother deserved them) before standing up, catching Alfred's arm, and dragging his brother back.

His arms wrapped around the lean waist while his chin pressed against his twin's shoulder, just letting his presence sooth as he turned their bodies away from Arthur who stood panting off to the side in the grip of other students.

"Easy, Alfred," he whispered, breathing against the rapid pulse and not letting go until his brother was limp in his arms. Only then did he unwind himself to turn and look at Arthur, just staring until the boy shifted uneasily and huffed.

Then Matthew smiled, a small twist of his lips, "No harm done, right?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Mattie?" Alfred spat, "I told you, if he hurt you I'd kill him."

"And I said you wouldn't have to do that." Matthew reminded him, only glancing at his brother before looking back at Arthur. Stepping forward, he held out his hand and grabbed Arthurs', pulling his close until he could whisper in his ear, "There are many things worse than dying. If you so much as look at Alfred you'll find out what they are.

"I would suggest moving on, there is nothing and nobody for you here, you worthless piece of shit."

He stepped back, dropping Arthur's arm like it was garbage, and turned to Alfred, "Let's go before the teachers get here. I'll patch you up at my locker."

Alfred gave Arthur one last glare when he thought Matthew wasn't looking, then followed, his arm wrapping protectively around his twins shoulders, once again not noticing how close Matthew was to laughter.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Alfred asked that night, once again curled up in Matthew's bed.

Matthew shook his head, smiling as he played with Alfred's hair, content to remain quiet as his brother stewed in old anger.

"You shouldn't of stopped me. I don't care if the teachers had caught us, he was being an asshole to you."

"It's over," Matthew told him, rolling his eyes.

"No it's not. No one messes with you and gets away with it. Not when I'm around."

Matthew snorted and leaned over, pressing his lips against Alfred's until he felt shock turn into returning pressure, "We all get that you're my knight in shining armour, so give it a rest."

What? Hey…" This time it was Alfred who leaned over, who pressed his lips against Matthew's and coaxed him to open up.

And Matthew knew then that Alfred was all his.

It was even later that night, after Alfred had fallen asleep, that Matthew got up and snuck out of his window, heading for a house ten minutes away. There Arthur was sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning until the blankets were wrapped around him like a straightjacket.

Matthew sneered as he stared down at the one who had dared to try and take Alfred from him, slowly crawling over the bed until he was kneeling over him. Only then did Arthur start to wake, coming out of his nightmare slowly only to realize it had come true.

Matthew's hand clamped down hard on his 'friend's' mouth, grinning in the shadows as he leaned over, "Now, now, waking everyone up would just be plain rude. Let's keep this between us, shall we?"

He brought his other hand into play, this one holding a knife from Arthur's kitchen, placing the blade against teen's throat, moving it hypnotically over the delicate skin.

"You really are a useless little boy, aren't you? Good only for making people hate you," Matthew spoke the words with false love, with false care, just as they had once been said to him, "See, you are going to talk to your parents tomorrow and tell them that you want to move schools. I don't care which one, but if you haven't vanished by the end of this month…"

Matthew let his voice trail off, smiling kindly down at Arthur while removing the knife. Green eyes followed his every move, watching him like a trapped animal that had forgotten how to flee or fight.

"You have until the 31st, Arthur. Get out."

**Present**

"But you better get going, Alfred, we went a bit over time since Peter isn't here; the guards won't be impressed that we didn't follow the rules."

"I still have so many questions," Alfred growled, glaring at the door when it opened, "Cant we have more time?"

"You already had an hour extra. Time to go or else you give up your visiting rights," the guard warned, heading over to Matthew who sat still while being unchained from the floor.

"Alfred, don't come to court tomorrow."

"I have to."

"Don't, or else you'll regret it, and I don't want you hurt."

"I'm sorry," Alfred said softly, "But I don't want there to be any more secrets between us."

Matthew nodded and ducked his head, leaving without any fuss; leaving Alfred to collect himself under the weight of what he had learned.

* * *

**Next chapter is when things start getting really dark- we get to see why Alfred is Matthew's everything, and why Matthew is so twisted and torn up- so I'm excited and nervous about posting. Until next week or so! Goodbyes.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings: Child abuse (how I hate myself for writing it) but it isn't graphic. This is the main reason I have 'dark themes' as a warning in the summery.  
Thank you to: ncalkins, TheChibiRiceBall, Product of a Sick Society, Ruthe-La, and ChocoVanille for reviewing.  
Dedication: for Ruthe-La, whose writing prowess is unbelievable. Honestly, read her stories on woodbyne's account because their awesomeness is trumped only by her own.  
**

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Alfred twitched uncomfortably in his suit while twisting on the wooden bench as he tried to get comfortable. Around him people whispered, many glancing in his direction until Matthew was brought in, his brother somehow managing to look calm and dignified in the bright orange prison garb. Their eyes met as a hush settled around the room, no one speaking when the Judge finally appeared, only standing and sitting as mandated by tradition.

"I would like to call Matthew Williams to the stand."

Alfred watched his brother stand and walk forward, handcuffs glinting under the lights as he was guided into the witness stand.

"Now, Matthew, why don't you tell us what your parents were like."

"I'm sorry but you're going to have to be a bit more specific. My parents were very different in how they were with me, and how they were with everyone else, especially Alfred."

Their eyes met again, Matthew's defeated while Alfred tried to remain expressionless. He had always known his parents hadn't liked Matthew, and had done his best to make sure his twin got equal treatment. It had become increasingly hard as time went on and his schedule filled up; Matthew had not been allowed out of the house very often, usually always grounded for one thing or another, and that left unknown hours of untold abuse.

"My first memories are of being left alone at home while Alfred was taken out to parks or other places. They would go out for supper and turn off all the lights, put childlocks on electronics, and would threaten me with what would happen if I even thought of taking food. It was manageable and I didn't understand why, but my brother was happy and that was all that mattered to me.

"Then I turned five."

**Fifteen Years Ago**

"Mommy?" Matthew mumbled sleepily, blinking as the fuzzy outline of his mother cleared and took shape. She was standing over him, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyes hidden in the darkness.

"Come," she said at last, grabbing his arm in a vice grip and yanking him out of bed, "You're a dirty child, and dirty children need to be cleaned."

Matthew whimpered, trying desperately to pull away as he was dragged down the hallway. His mom wouldn't hurt him, would she? She loved him.

"Mommy-"

He was broken off by a sharp crack, her hand slamming across his face as she hissed, "Don't call me that."

Tears rolled down his face and she sneered, pulling him into the bathroom and to the tub, pushing him into the steaming water with his clothes still on.

He desperately wanted to scream, to yell out for help as the water scalded his body, turning his skin a bright red as he was pushed down to the bottom. She held him there, running her nails cruelly through his hair before letting him back up to grab precious lungfulls of air.

"If you wake up your brother I'll kill you," she promised, voice rough as she forced him down again, overpowering his small frame. Matthew fought, trying to knock her hands away but her grip was too strong; it hurt too much.

His clothes were torn from him, choking him even as he was allowed to come up for air, leaving him exposed to the harsh rag that was serving as his washcloth. The soap stung, and his skin was rubbed raw before she started with his hair, yanking it and scratching his scalp until he bled. Time after time he was forced down until black spots danced before his eyes.

She finally let go, releasing him when he could no longer move, throwing the washcloth at him as he curled up in the now freezing water, holding himself as he choked back sobs.

"You were a mistake," she spat, "Nothing but a leech that sucked half of Alfred's life."

**Present**

"Was that a one time thing?"

Alfred pressed his hand against his mouth as Matthew shook his head, "No, it continued for a year."

"And then?"

"Alfred made a comment of hearing strange noises coming from the bathroom, and one night he knocked on the door right before she finished. She couldn't risk it after that."

"Mhmm. And so, ladies and gentlemen of the court, I would like to draw your attention to the screen," he clicked a button and a slideshow started, showing various x-rays and photos of broken bones and bruises, "Matthew's parents always said these were from playing. That he was into violent sports and hung out with a rough crowd against their wishes."

A bruise in the exact shape of a handprint appeared, a woman's hand, wrapping around an 11 year old Matthew's wrist, "He bruises easy." Another picture of Matthew with a black eye and a long scratch down his cheek, "He fell off his bicycle. Every time he was sent to the hospital they had another excuse and the doctors bought it.

"He did play hockey, but street hockey with gear that other children had to lend him. He never had a bike. His friends could have been rough, but I know of very few 11 year old boys who can wrap their hands around another boy's throat with enough force to bruise. Or a 14 year old that would mark another with cigarette burns."

The last picture went by, showing the handprint bruises that wrapped like a collar around Matthew's neck. Alfred watched it all in horror, remembering some of the ones that had not been able to hide under clothes, the broken bones, but many of them were new.

"Matthew would have to walk himself to the hospital, and only then, once his parents were phoned by staff, would they come over."

"The point to all of this?" the other lawyer asked, staring down at his nails passively.

"That maybe he's not as evil as you are trying to make him out to be."

The room exploded with sound, many people jumping to their feet and yelling obscenities at Matthew's lawyer. The man stood strong under it all, shoulders squared and head held high as he watched them until the Judge banged down the gavel.

"Quiet! All of you will sit down or else you will all be made to leave."

People slowly settled, sitting back down with only a few grumblers here and there. Even they fell into silence when the Judge's eyes passed over them, but Alfred paid no attention, choosing instead to narrow his vision until it was completely on his twin. Matthew was watching him back, closed off but Alfred knew him well enough to read the weariness, and the sadness of finally showing Alfred how little he had protected him.

"Alfred was always my hero," Matthew's quiet voice drifted through the speakers, catching everyone, including Alfred, off guard, "Every year he would ask why I never got any presents, why I was the only one being punished, why I was the only that always had to clean, or why I never got to eat as much as him. Sometimes he would try to help, but that woman would always find something to distract him. And I always tried to make him stop because whenever he did that I would get punished for corrupting him.

"One night he took food from the kitchen for me, I hadn't been allowed to eat for two days because I left my homework on the table while going to the bathroom, and I told him to eat it for me. He didn't want to, but I continued to refuse until he left."

"And what happened after that?"

Matthew looked away and Alfred felt dread crawl up his spine, "That's when I 'fell off my bike'."

"What about the bruises around your neck, why did they happen?"

"Alfred had a shouting match with our parents about wanting me to go to camp with him. Once again I was putting ideas into Alfred's head, and if I couldn't breathe then I couldn't speak." He suddenly grinned, "Thankfully the idea of explaining to a distraught Alfred why his brother had vanished didn't appeal to her, and she panicked when I really did stop breathing."

"What about this one?"

The pictures flipped back to an image of a twelve year old Matthew on a hospital bed, bandages around his head with blood soaking through the side. Old bruises ringed his eyes and his left wrist was in a cast. Alfred watched as his brother took it in with a blank expression, offering a small shrug before reliving the nightmare.

**8 Years Ago**

"If it weren't for Alfred you'd have been gone years ago. Stupid, useless waste of space. You shouldn't have been born, shouldn't have been allowed to live."

She was in one of her moods and Matthew knew better than to talk back; the last time he had earned him three broken ribs.

"So you're going to be quiet now? You seem happy enough to spew your poison at my son."

He bit his lip, clutching the white teddy bear that Alfred had brought back with him from the fair. It was yanked from his grasp, and he gave a startled cry, reaching for it by instinct before realizing his mistake.

"Filthy things like you should not touch what is pure," he faintly heard as her fist swung out, knocking his malnourished body over and into the corner of the table. Lights exploded behind his eyes and his body became heavy, mind becoming disjointed as he felt himself being dragged.

'_Not there_,' he tried to scream out_, "Please not there_."

But no one heard as he was thrown into the unfinished basement, landing painfully on his hands as he fell face-first into the cement. The light vanished as the door clicked shut, the sound of the lock sliding into place as loud as a gunshot to his ears.

There he curled up into a ball until his father came home and opened the door, gazing down at him expressionlessly for a few moments before sighing, "You always manage to survive, don't you. Just heal up before Alfred gets back to ask questions."

He left, leaving Matthew to slowly crawl his way upstairs that night when both adults had gone to bed. Two blocks down he passed out on someone's lawn, laying there until the couple got up to leave for work.

**Present**

"She locked you in the basement?"

"Frequently, sometimes for days on end. I never could play hide and seek very well in that house; the other kids caught on that the basement and my parents room were places I would never go."

Alfred swallowed back bile, replaying times when he had pressured Matthew to go down there with him. That the rust stains on the floor hadn't been from oil or some random stranger dying there like the stories that he had made up, but from his own brother laying in pools of blood until it soaked into the very cement.

"I'm calling for a five minute break, then we will continue."

The gavel banged down, and the judge stood, followed by everyone else who only moved from their spot once the judge and prisoner left. Alfred stayed where he was though, staring at the empty chair.

* * *

**After I wrote this I was actually shaking. That may be because I hadn't stood up in a few hours, but my brain was also mush over dragging it through this topic. I do not joke about abuse, or rape, so neither of these topics will be treated lightly in this story.**  
**PS- On a happier note, I finally tried Ice Wine. Had to ask three LB workers where it was, but I did it! And it was yummy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings: attempted rape and the first murder**

**I'm so excited, on Monday I get to find out why I went deaf in my right ear. I can still faintly hear, but because my eardrum is fine I'm stuck with my heartbeat whenever I try to sleep. Anyone else have that?  
**

**Dedication: for my cat who is currently rolling around right in front of me so that I can't type. She's so supportive.  
**

* * *

"Do you ever feel guilty for murdering three people?"

Matthew turned his head, staring down at the opposing lawyer, "Do I regret killing the man who tried to rape me? Or the parents who spent years abusing me? No more than you regret putting down the dog that attacks your children, or the death of your worst nightmare."

Dead silence, and Alfred glanced around, noting that some people's expressions had changed from condemning to horror. Matthew was not forgiven, not by a long shot, but the mood was shifting; people were finally understanding that there was more to this than simple cold-blooded murder.

Alfred included himself in that assessment, but he also knew what his brother was capable of.

He had always known there had been a reason Matthew had shut everyone out, a reason Matthew could find it within himself to kill.

"Who was Carlos Machado to you?"

"Everything, then nothing. He taught me how to protect myself, and that was his downfall. Carlos was the kind of guy who would pick up a kid sitting bloody on the street corner and fix him up, no questions asked. But he was also a man that would go to extremes for what he wanted, and once he found that thing he would never let go."

"Is that how he found you? Bloody on a street corner?"

"It was actually in an alley, but yes, he found me after I had face planted into the wall and became a target for a vase and a few books. He assumed I had just met my match on the street and offered to teach my scrawny self how to fight."

**4 Years Ago**

"You're not looking too good there, amigo."

Matthew grunted, swiping at his bloody nose with the back of his hand, "I've had worse."

"Then maybe you should start protecting yourself, no? Come back to my place, I'll patch you up nice and teach you to roll with the punches, and maybe how to throw a few."

"You're not some pervert, are you?" Matthew asked curiously, not bothering to fake the fear he knew her should have when facing a stranger asking to take him home.

The stranger just laughed and held out a hand, "Not for scrawny little underage boys like you. Now come on, I don't have all day to be sitting in this filthy alley."

Matthew got up unassisted and wordlessly followed him through back streets and a neglected park until they reached a run down apartment building. It loomed over Matthew, a dark blot in the sky that threatened to swallow him up until there was nothing left.

"Elevator is a bit iffy so we'll take the stairs. Watch your step!"

Matthew kept silent, taking in the molding wallpaper and the broken windows, the animals that ran feral in the hallway, and the people who sat inside their homes with the door open joking and laughing together. It was like a small community, separate from the world; but like everywhere else, there was still danger present. Every person they walked past had a weapon within reach, and their eyes darted around every once in a while, taking in any little change as it came and went.

"Here we are, home sweet home. Don't bother taking off your shoes; there is no telling when you'll have to make a run for it. Or who has been walking around without my permission."

The door was swung open on a small room, the kitchen tucked into one corner, and an old TV and couch in the other. Two other doors led to a bedroom and a bathroom, both well cared for, but stained and crumbling.

"Quiet one aren't you, and I recon you have your share of brains in there," the dark man commented cheerfully, his smile having never slipped, "Don't matter none to me. Go sit at the table and I'll grab a damp cloth."

Matthew did as he was told, watching the man as he raced around to grab one of the torn rags in the drawer by the kitchen sink, then dampen it with tap water. Only then did the blond tense, eying the rag as if it were a snake, a move the stranger did not miss.

"Yeah, it's not pretty but it's clean and soft like baby wipes."

Matthew snorted and the man grinned, parking himself down before reaching out to dab at the dried blood.

"I'm Carlos by the way. Guess I should have told you that when we first met," the man laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he drew the cloth back for a second.

"Matthew."

"Nice to meet you, Matthew. You look much better without blood."

"I thought you weren't a pervert."

"Naw, that was just a compliment. Not much of a one, but one anyways."

This time it was Matthew who laughed, approval shining in his gaze before he winced and pulled his shirt up his side. It was bruised, already darkening and spreading wider, the imprint of the vase taking shape. Carlos whistled when he saw it, thick eyebrows raised as far as they would go as he studied the mess of broken blood vessels.

"That's a doozey right there. Needs ice." Carlos heaved himself up and headed for the fridge. The top door opened, letting the freezing air escape is a rush of white fog before it was once more trapped.

"Here," a bag of ice was handed over, the entire thing a solid block that dug mercilessly into the tender flesh in some spots. Matthew didn't flinch though, not for this, instead just sitting there and waiting for his new acquaintance to finish dishing out two bowls of ice-cream.

"I haven't had a reason to use my bowls for a while. Hope you don't mind a bit of dust, and don't worry, I haven't eaten from this carton yet."

Matthew shrugged and took the bowl, placing it on his lap so that he could eat single handedly, "Ice cream is ice cream. But did you mean it? About showing me how to fight."

"Well sure, though I think you should be worried a bit more about your defense."

"Can't. If I start avoiding everything things are just going to get worse."

"There are ways to move yourself so that it looks and feels like the hit connects, but it doesn't do as bad damage."

"Teach me. Offensive and defensive."

Carlos smiled with his own approval, nodding his head slowly, "No time like the present."

**Present**

"He just sounds like a good Samaritan to me," the lawyer said, completely ignoring Matthew's lawyer who glared at him.

"You haven't heard everything yet, Tom. Give the boy a chance."

"Fine, makes no difference to me."

Alfred unclenched his fists, forcing down the desire to punch this 'Tom'. Matthew gave him a warning look from the stand, silently radiating confidence that had the room on edge.

"Matthew, you said he tried to rape you before you killed him. Tell us what happened."

Matthew gave a long suffering sigh before shrugging, "We were fine for two years during which I became a better fighter, and I always made sure he underestimated me.

"I do believe that when we first met he had no interest in me, but over time he began taking on more lovers that never stayed. At first they were all women, all different from the last until he settled with slender blondes. Still, they always left within a week, and he started looking at me differently, becoming more possessive. He started asking about every bruise and demanded to know what had happened every second that I had been away from him.

"I could tell he was growing tense, and I guessed the reason when he insisted on taking me out for supper one night. He knew my family was out of town for one of Alfred's football games, but he still got impatient.

"Luckily for me he made his move in an alley. The one we met in actually."

**2 Years Ago**

"That place is good, no? I can actually stand the burgers, and the ice-cream is delicious."

"Mhmm," Matthew replied absently, taking a deep breath of the grimy air, feeling it wash through his lungs until it stuck there, "I better head home, though."

"Why don't you stay the night? You said your parents are gone so they won't notice if you're not back."

Matthew shook his head, edging away slowly as Carlos' voice took on a dark anticipation, "Alfred might phone and if I'm not there to answer he's going to cause a huge fuss until the parents become involved. Then I'll be under house arrest for the rest of my life."

A hand shot out of the growing darkness, wrapping around his arm in a tight grip, "Come live with me then; I can take care of you.

"I will love you more than they ever have."

Matthew froze in anger, each muscle tense as he was pulled back towards lips that pressed roughly against his. The scratch of stubble burned, and the scent of cigars flooded his nose until it was choking him worse than the smog.

"Back off," he warned, chocking off when a tongue invaded his mouth, prodding and asking for things he would not give. Not to him.

Nausea rose, and he gagged, pulled back and using his free hand to wipe his mouth, glaring at Carlos over the sleeve of his shirt while twisting his other arm free.

"I've done so much for you, and this is how you repay me, you little shit? Who bandaged your wounds when you came limping over? Who fed you, gave you clothes when yours became torn and matted in blood? Who taught you how to fight? You owe me."

"I never asked you for anything you didn't offer first," Matthew hissed back, loathing curling up in his stomach, "And I paid you back for everything you gave me."

Carlos seemed to realize his mistake but he still pressed, pushing Matthew back against the alley wall by his throat and shoving his legs between the teen's own, "Why do you go back when I offer you everything?"

Matthew stilled under the lips and tongue that ran over his throat, knowing it fueled his assailant's anger when nothing could draw a reaction out of him. The pawing hand met bored flesh, and the tongue a just as uninterested mouth.

The hand around his throat tightened in warning, blocking off Matthew's air as he lounged against the wall, instinct telling him to struggle, brain telling him to accept, and shoulders shaking in manic laughter. Even when Carlos slammed his fist into the side of his face Matthew only laughed, chocking slightly on the blood that trickled down his throat from his bitten tongue.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?"

Another hit, this time to his ribs, knocked the breath right out of him and stopped the laughter. His hands raised into a defensive position, blocking his face just in time to stop a hit that would have broken his nose.

Matthew fought back, trying to push Carlos away until a kick had his knees crumbling out from under him. The dirty asphalt stuck to him, embracing him in the scent of tar and human waste.

The scent of garbage.

Strong hands grabbed his clothes, dragging him up and pressing him face-first against the brick wall that tore at his skin. Carlos leaned behind him, fingers ripping at the button and zipper of his pants, whispering in his ear of all the times he had been so close to doing exactly this. Of how much he loved him- and then something that made Matthew freeze, the cold light coming back to his eyes as he forcefully pushed back.

For the first time he made Carlos feel fear, the brain numbing fear of a rabbit staring straight into a wolf's eyes. This time Matthew didn't hold back, fighting the bigger man off, ducking under swings. A right jab became a left undercut, blows falling in a smooth sequence until it was the Cuban on the ground with Matthew standing over him.

"I was going to leave you alive," Matthew spat, grabbing the small gun that Carlos always carried with him, "I guess your Lady Luck just wasn't with you tonight."

**Present**

"I wiped the gun down and stuck it in one of the barrels of old grease behind a restaurant a few blocks over then phoned the cops, told them we had been attacked. Police just thought it was another gang shooting or a mugging gone wrong so they left me alone after a few questions."

"What did he say that made you so angry?"

Matthew just smiled and shrugged, but Alfred could already guess that it had something to do with him even before Matthew glanced over.

"That's between Carlos and I."

…

…

…

"_I wonder if that brother of yours tastes as good as you."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings: Suggestive situations on a couch (super soft core for me. It's basically G in my head). And matricide, patricide, you know, the things that use to call for death by stoning.**

**Thank you to my reviewers. I know this story drags you through all types of hell, but without you this story would be updated even more sporadically and further apart.  
**

* * *

"I told you not to be there," Matthew told him softly, eyes flickering like gemstones under the fluorescent lighting.

"Would you have told me? Would you have been honest with them?"

Matthew's slow grin was answer enough and Alfred slammed his elbows onto the table, burying his head into his hands until spots danced behind his eyelids.

"Why haven't you asked me yet?" he heard asked gently. No true emotion rang out, but his mind filled in the blanks, adding love, sadness, regret, and curiosity where there were none, "You wanted the beginning, but it's time for the end now."

"Why do I always have to ask you?" he forced out, shoulders hunching until he dared glance through his fingers, "You know everything I want to, so why do I even have to fucking ask?"

Matthew seemed to glow in the light, looking angelic and untouched by the troubles of the world. There was an innocence about him that Alfred could still not find within himself to look past, to ignore for the darkness that danced right below the surface.

"You have to be sure you want to know," was whispered, "You could have kept living your life, completely oblivious and happy, but you came here instead and now you're struggling to accept everything." Matthew straightened, "I never wanted you to find out about any of this."

"So why did you do it?" Alfred finally asked, the words like tar in his throat, "Why did you kill them?"

"She found out about us," Matthew's tone became more poisonous with every word, "She said that she was finally going to kill me, an old threat, and one I was use to so I didn't care. At least, not until she said she was going to kill you too."

Those beautiful eyes hardened, "That bitch threatened you, so I had to get rid of her. Dad was more of an afterthought; he always did what she wanted, and if he decided to hurt you while I was gone- I couldn't afford to allow that possibility."

**One Year Ago**

"Matt?"

Matthew looked up from his perch on the couch, book open on his lap with one finger marking his spot. Alfred sat on the ground in front of the TV with his head turned back to face him, his glasses reflecting the blue light and blocking out his eyes.

"Yes, Alfred?" Matthew asked mildly, watching Alfred's every move for some sign of what his brother wanted.

"Parent's are gone tonight, right? So its just us?"

"Ah," he felt a small grin tug at the corners of his lips before slowly closing his book and setting it down on the floor, "Yeah, did you want me to play with you?"

Even without being able to see Alfred's eyes he knew they had widened, and nothing could make him overlook the sudden hopeful glint in his brother's smile. It vanished when he motioned for the extra controller instead of inviting him over, sending a small thrill down his back at how dependent Alfred's moods were on him.

"Come sit with me on the couch."

Alfred's smile reappeared, radiant but dimmed, like a child who had gotten only half of what they wanted but didn't want to say anything and risk upsetting the giver, "Alright! You want to try playing this one, or one of my other games?"

"One of your other ones." Matthew said once Alfred has gotten settled, keeping his face and tone completely innocent even when blue eyes flashed in frustration. It was honestly too much fun when Alfred still made to stand up until Matthew swung out his legs and locked him in, acting like a human seatbelt.

"I thought you wanted to play one of my other games?" Alfred asked curiously even as his fingers traced over the worn denim of Matthew's jeans.

"I do; I was just joking about the controller," Matthew grinned, pushing himself up until he was straddling his twin's legs, holding the sky blue gaze and watching as mixture of emotions flashed through them.

"You're like a melting pot," he whispered against chapped lips, "So many emotions that roll and mix together until they become one action."

Alfred all but purred beneath him, the calloused hands sliding under his shirt until Matthew grabbed his wrists and forced them back down, ignoring the way his name was whined. Brushing his cheek against the tanned skin, he peppered kisses along the smooth neck; scraping his teeth against the steady pulse while feeling it beat beneath his fingers.

"Do you love me?" he whispered, letting go of the wrists when they stopped fighting to free themselves. Alfred had gotten the hint and sat still beneath him, hardly breathing as his eyes flickered under dark lashes, flashing like blue fire that threatened to consume.

"Always," Matthew felt, the words sworn against his neck, branding the skin with a heat that seeped to his very core. The course fabric of the couch scraped against his palms, catching on the threads of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, drawing him in.

Alfred was like fire against his skin, every touch bordering on painful as it seared his nerve endings, racing and pooling like mercury under his skin. It set him free, reminded him just who was touching him as his head tilted back to the feeling of teeth grazing against his jaw.

**Present**

"You can skip this part," Alfred broke in, clearing his throat while glancing anxiously at the blank walls.

"Are you sure?"

Alfred looked back to glare at his twin, the amusement in those words stirring up feelings he tried to shove down, "Asshole. I was there for that part; I don't need a commentary on how you felt about giving me a blowjob."

"Sorry," the word came out sounding instinctive, the meaning lost in the lack of honesty, "Shall we move on to our parents' murder than? Blood and guts more interesting than sex and sweat?"

"Don't twist things around like that, Matthew. I came for answers, not stories."

Something flickered across Matthew's face then, something so close to pain that Alfred immediately dismissed as his imagination. After making up what he wanted to see for so long, he didn't trust himself to actually place it when he did.

"Alfred, all I have left to give you are stories."

**One Year Ago**

Matthew's eyes snapped open, body laying still and relaxed even as his brain went into overdrive, struggling to keep his breathing even. The door to Alfred's swung open slowly, the light from the hallway trickling in and spreading itself out onto every square inch that it could.

"Alfred?" their mother called out, her soft voice stirring something in Matthew that he fought to keep down, "You awake, honey?"

Footsteps, then a sharp intake of breath and nails were digging into his arm, breaking the skin and burrowing into the muscle as he was yanked out of bed.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet," he said calmly, watching the blue eyes so like yet unlike his brother's. There was rage there, rolling and crushing, spiced with hatred and revulsion; and, just on the surface, was an image of himself. He would see his blank face, the unnatural lilac eyes, and knew it appeared as mockery to her.

Alfred never stirred behind him, completely oblivious to the drop in temperature as Matthew stood there in his plaid boxers, bite marks and hickies dark against his pale skin. Their mother stared him down, the rage bringing out the instability in her gaze until her grip loosened before finally letting go.

"Not now; I'll be back though, and then I'll finally end you and your poison. You will never touch my son again."

"But I am your son," Matthew told her as sweetly as he could, watching as the flush on her cheeks darkened and the vibe from her became murderous, "How is breakfast coming, by the way?"

"I'll call you," she all but spat, "Get to your room and stay there."

"Of course," Matthew smiled, walking past slowly, every muscle thrumming in tension just waiting for any sign of an attack. None came, but he could feel her eyes following him out of the room and down the hallway, daring him to go past words to defy her, to give her a reason to carry out her threats.

The cold metal of the doorknob bit into his fingers, reflecting the stony glare in his eyes as he stared down into it, searching the distorted depths for answers to questions best left unasked. A gentle click down the hall, the closing of Alfred's door, and the chill of frigid hatred swarmed over him, choking him within a cloud of jasmine perfume. She just walked by, though, never looking at him even when she reached the bottom of the stairs and vanished into the kitchen.

It took 2 hours, 2 hours of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, before he was called downstairs, smile firmly in place and eyes glowing with inner discord. The flames never dimmed, not when he was hit after breakfast for taking food from Alfred's plate, and not when he walked back into the kitchen after school to find his tormenter leaning against the counter.

"Where is Alfred?" he asked calmly, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

"Baseball," she hissed, snatching the fruit away before he could take a bite, and threw it into the garbage.

Matthew watched her, the beautiful woman who had given birth to him, and who had tried to hard to break him, turning away only to watch the apple vanish before looking back silently.

"You ruined him," Matthew shrugged at the accusation, "He was my perfect angle and you came and dirtied him."

"You just don't know how dirty your 'angle' really was," he told her, poking with words at the wounds of her being, "How he begged for me to-"

The flash of light across metal caught his eye, sending his body into an instinctual twist that saved his live at the cost of a thin cut along his cheek.

"Devil spawn. Disgusting, vile, worthless." Each word came with its own slash, driving him back into the living room, the hardwood floor vibrating with their footsteps, "I'll kill you, then your brother. You dirtied him."

A cold shiver raced down his spine, carrying until it reached the soles of his feet and freezing him in mid-step, "Kill Alfred?" He caught the frail wrist, twisting sharply and grabbing the handle before it clattered down, bringing the blade back up until it plunged into skin, "No one touches Alfred but me."

Blue eyes faded to grey under his stare, wide opened and frozen in shock as blood bubbled past her lips, dripping downing slow motion to stain her clothes. Matthew watched her pitiful attempts to talk through the flowing crimson, letting her fall to the floor in a twitching pile of limbs. Despite what TV said, stomach wounds were not instant kills, a thought that had Matthew grinning until he glanced at the clock, then back to her.

"Shit. Sorry, mother dearest, you really were not supposed to die today. You're going to have to take a little vacation in the basement until things blow over; don't worry though, you'll have company soon enough."

He smiled kindly down at her before grabbing her arm and dragging her forward, watching her fall into the basement without his facial expression ever changing. The glow was still there, still lighting up is eyes as he poured bleach into his father's favourite whiskey.

"Lars?" Matthew said politely into the phone three hours later, sitting on the couch across from the patriarch's body, "Remember that deal? I'll take it." He made a small noise of agreement then shut the phone, placing it in his back pocket before reaching for the house phone.

"911, what is your emergency?"

* * *

**I have a ton of homework so next update may be slow, and if I ever sound grumpy it's because I'm exhausted/ stressed.**

**For those curious about my deaf-ness: I have been given the options of sucking it up, getting a hearing aid, or having them poke around my eardrum and 'fix it' (the specialist said that surgery wouldn't actually fix the pounding or ringing, and may not even fix the hearing loss). By law I do get a 1 month free trial with the aid so I'm thinking of trying that... Those questions of 'would you rather lose' just aren't as funny anymore.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**So busy T^T Anyways, this is the second last chapter (well, the last chapter. After this is the epilogue, which I will try to write when I have time.)**

**IMPORTANT to me: This is based off of the CANADIAN legal system. I barely know how it works, let alone the American one, so Canadian it is. For those who care, the Canadians measure murders in degrees:**

**First Degree murder: Planned and deliberate (and a whole bunch of other things, like if you murdered someone while assaulting them, or killing a peace officer)**

**Second Degree: Anything not first degree**

**There is also Manslaughter which is anything that doesn't fall under Murder or Infanticide. Yeah.  
**

**Thank you so much to Lykaios Avery who took the time to explain Canadian law a bit more for me, and for correcting his sentence. You are wonderful.  
**

* * *

Bomber jackets and blue jeans were typically not acceptable clothing to wear to court, but Alfred could not bring himself to care. Even in them he felt like death warmed over- his mirror was kind enough to show him that he definitely looked like it- so there was no way he was forcing himself into something more formal. The amount of people watching him with judgment in their eyes could not increase, not now on the last day when everything that needed to be had already been said.

Matthew sat a few rows in front of him, untouchable past the flimsy wooden fence, completely frozen, sitting so still that Alfred began to doubt that he was breathing. It took a second for him to realize that his brother was watching the clock, eyes glued on the ticking second hand that jerked itself around in circle after circle.

The Judge watched everything from his perch up high, hands folded and gaze narrowed, keeping order as the jury filed in. They looked as bad as Alfred did with dark rings around their eyes, clothes in slight disarray, and hair a bit more wild than normal. Those were just insignificant detail to Alfred though, what he really noticed was how blank they were, as if they had taken on more than they could handle and the guilt was wearing them down.

"Has the Jury reached a verdict?"

Alfred looked back to the judge, then watching the jury members as they shuffled about in their seats, none of them glancing in his direction. A lump formed in his throat and his teeth ground together, pushing down the unfair anger he felt towards them.

"We find the defendant guilty on one count of second degree murder, one count of voluntary manslaughter, and one count of first degree murder."

"Very well. In the case of R v. Williams, I hereby sentence the accused to life without chance of parole for 25 years for count two, 20 years for voluntary manslaughter, and life without chance of parole for 22 years for count one, to be served concurrently."

It was a wonder at how one little word could have changed this all; how it could have stopped Alfred's heart from skipping a beat as the blood rushed from his face. Even expecting it- dreading it- he still found himself frozen in place with nowhere to turn, his entire focus on his twin

Matthew looked entirely unconcerned as he was dragged to his feet, oblivious to the noise around him that rose after the gavel banged down. His sentence hung over the room, bringing excited and scandalized whispers that cut through the air like sharp daggers. Nothing stopped their ebb and flow, their echoes remaining even after the people left, no longer interested in the stuffy room that held nothing but worn benches and faded rugs.

"I'd ask if you were okay, but I think the answer is kinda obvious."

Alfred glanced over at his neighbor, watching the young man as he sat down and made himself into a comfortable slouch with his legs outstretched. The heels of Alejandro's boots dug into the floor to keep him from moving past 'slouch' to 'heap on the floor', and Alfred closed his eyes in frustration.

"What do you want?" he asked, pressing his fingers against his eyelids.

"Nothing. I just wanted to know how you are holding up. You seem to forget that I have lived right beside you for years now, and that Matthew and I use to be friends."

"Honestly, dude, what do you _want_?" Alfred looked up, eyes narrowed in suspicion and distaste that seeped down and pulled his lips into a sneer, "I'm really not in the mood to reminisce with you."

"I told you, I don't want anything. Just, don't give up on Matthew, okay? He gave up everything for you, even his friends, so I doubt he went to prison blindly."

Alfred reached out and grabbed Alejandro's arm when the other made to stand, stopping him with a vice grip, "What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. He never opened up even when we were friends, but the moment the two of us got into a fight he dropped me like a hot coal. You were always first, and I have a feeling you still are."

"Alejandro," Alfred began, and then stopped when the arm was pulled away, his fingers slowly unwinding until his hand dropped.

"I still haven't figured out why he doesn't hate you," the man shrugged, "Just for that reason I'm able to believe him insane.

"An insane man can do or believe anything."

Alfred fought down the burning hatred that welled up in him, telling him to crush whoever dared speak up against Matthew, "Leave, and don't fucking ever talk to me again."

Alejandro laughed, the sound grating against Alfred's ears like nails on a chalkboard, and turned away, "Good-bye then, pendejo. Have fun knowing you failed."

**Two Month Later**

"We have been just informed that Matthew Jones- Williams has escaped from jail after allegedly killing his cell-mate, a man arrested on drug charges. Police are asking everyone to be on lookout and ask anyone with possible leads on Matthew's whereabouts to call in."

Alfred looked up an stared at the TV blearily, his eyes barely focusing on the flashing images until the topic was changed. A bowl of soup burned his hands until the protesting nerves broke through the fatigue, turning his finger pads a scalded pink that tingled even with nothing touching them.

"Mattie?" he whispered, voice harsh and thick with emotion, eyes darting hopefully around the room. Only shadows greeted him, swaying and bobbing like they were laughing, mocking him for his hope that so many people could not understand.

The TV continued to drone on, completely ignorant to the hornet's nest it had stirred, and the soft ticking of Alfred's watch marched on with its steady beat.

"Alfred, this is Investigator Zwingli. I'm sure you've heard the news about your brother already, so I'm just calling to check up. We think he will head for you first so phone us back, and we'll send someone to keep an eye on you if you want. Just… phone us back."

Alfred glanced over at the answering machine, tempted to pour the soup over it and ignore the fact that he had ever heard the stranger's voice. It would be a waste of supper though, and the only thought worse than wasting food was wasting it only to have police officers show up at his door.

And if Mattie chose that time to show up…

Alfred shook his head and picked up the phone, dialing the number Agent Zwingli had rambled off at the end, and spent the next 5 minutes declining security. All through it he could hear the lack of sincere worry about his wellbeing, and more about the desire to put his brother behind bars again. It made the soup clump together in his throat when he was finally able to eat it, even the shear amount of sodium was unable to save it from tasting like sawdust.

"Where the fuck are you, Mattie?" he groaned, pushing the plastic bowl away viciously until it tottered on the edge of the rickety table.

**Three Months Later**

Alfred stared up at the towering postal worker, eyebrows raised and hands braced on either side of the door frame, "I didn't order anything."

"It says right here. Alfred F. Jones- Williams. Even has your address right down to the apartment number."

"Fine. Where do you want me to sign?"

The handheld machine was passed over, and Alfred wrote a messy scrawl over the screen, not caring if it was on the line or not.

"Thanks," he grumbled, handing it back and taking the box, tucking it under an arm as he swung the door shut, "Have a good one."

"You too," came through the door, muffled and almost unrecognizable, but Alfred didn't care and wasn't listening for it.

"Probably just more hate mail," he sighed, rubbing his 6 o'clock shadow with the palm of his hand after tossing the box to the floor.

"Now why would I send that?"

Alfred spun to face the kitchen, staring into the lilac eyes that watched him, taking in everything of his appearance before delving below into his soul.

"Oh, Alfred," Matthew murmured sadly, hands braced on the counter where he sat and hair tucked behind one of his ears while his feet dangled.

"Matthew," Alfred chocked out, forcing the words past his paralyzed lips. One step forward became two, then three and four until he was close enough to wrap his brother in his arms, burying his face into the familiar shoulder.

"Shhh," his twin cooed, stroking his hair until Alfred moved back to look at him, his eyes rebelling against the thought of ever looking away again.

"Where were you?"

"I had things I had to take care of; but, I'm here now, Alfred. I'll stay with you forever if you want me to."

"But-" Alfred was stopped by lips that pressed tenderly against his own, pulling him into silence and the emotions that came with it.

"I love you."

"I love you too," he rasped out, pulling his twin tighter until there was nothing left but each other.

* * *

**I believe it was Product of a Sick Society that pointed out that Alfred was probably going to be the most messed up of the brothers, and I kind of agree. Matthew at least has an excuse for calling Alfred his everything; Alfred is in love with his murdering sociopath brother**** just because.**


	8. Chapter 8

**If you ever suffer writers block just remind yourself that you have to study. You'll get super motivated to write.**

**Thank you to: TheRuthe-La, 91RedRoses, Yumi-Tsubato, Lykaios Avery, ncalkins, and ChocoVanille. You guys are awesome!  
**

**This is the last chapter and it is basically a thank you to everyone who managed to get this far. This story is an absolute beast that touched on so many things that personally make me shy away from a story so to have people that stuck through is amazing.  
**

* * *

"What's for supper?" Alfred asked eagerly, the smell already telling him the answer of mouthwatering chicken and steamed vegetables.

Matthew grunted and waved the potato masher over his shoulder, "Food. Go get washed up, you smell."

Alfred grinned and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around the lean waist and nuzzled the curve of his twin's neck, "I thought you liked me hot and sweaty."

"Time and place," Matthew told him, but tilted his head back for a kiss, Alfred leaning in closer to capture the offered lips until they were withdrawn, "Go take a quick shower then we'll eat."

"Ten minutes," he promised, letting Matthew go reluctantly, his eyes glued to his brother's form. Matthew shooed him with his hand, already focused back on mashing the white lumps into submission.

The stairs were taken two at a time, his path to the shower sidetracked only by a stop to grab a pair of jeans, before he stepped into the tiny room. There was no lock on the door- broken by Matthew when he had kicked the door in after a fight- but they had no need for locks anymore. Their lives so intertwined that the thought of being without the other physically hurt.

Alfred stripped and adjusted the water, stepping under the spray that ran just a bit too hot, the pressure just a bit too harsh. Suds slipped between his fingers and down his body in murky white trails that washed away, vanishing with the layers of dirt and grime from the days work.

His eyes closed, body lax in contentment before he blindly reached to stop the flow, fumbling but turning the knobs with efficiency bred from cultured habit. Even when he reached out for the towel his eyes never opened, not until he had stepped out and dried off did he open them again, searching for the pants and pulling them on without hesitation.

"Ready!" he shouted cheerfully, racing back down the stairs and sliding to a stop in the doorway. Matthew looked up with a raised brow, lips curled into a small smile that was all Alfred's, his lilac gaze bright and appraising.

"Did you even try to dry off?"

"Not really," Alfred said cheerfully, head cocked back and eyes mischievous as his thumb hooked into his waistband and pulled it down for an extra inch of revealed skin.

A rush swept through him as Matthew immediately looked down, tongue peeking out for a second as it wet tempting lips.

Alfred let his hand drift lower, pulling the fabric further down as he palmed his crotch, "See something you want, Mattie?"

Matthew slowly raised his eyes, the soft brush of strawberry blond hair falling around his shoulders and glowing in the dim light like a halo.

"You have something I want," Alfred said, voice low and smooth with just a bit of rough around the edges, "You know what I want?"

Matthew stayed quiet, just watching him with dark, half mast eyes that glittered with too much heat to be holy.

"I want," Alfred slide him thumb from its perch, giving himself a slow stroke through the fabric, "You." He licked his lips, then let his hand fall and grinned, "To feed me. Supper ready yet?"

He didn't even have time to blink before Matthew was on him, yanking him forward until they were pressed firmly together. His cock nestled perfectly against Matthew's hip, not yet fully hard but getting there under the pressure of Matthew stirring against him.

"That all you want, Alfred?" he heard as teeth nipped at his bottom lip, "You want to be fed?"

"Fuck yes," he hissed, blinking away the maroon red strands of his hair as his hands slid around to cup Matthew's ass, yanking him forward for a quick grind before stumbling forward until the island counter blocked them.

Matthew's groan was little more than a hot puff of air as their mouths met, devouring each other from the inside out as pale fingers nimbly worked his jeans open. They were cold against his skin, pale against his tanned hips, but sure and steady as they pushed the fabric down.

"Do you want me, Mattie?" he teased while pulling back to watch his twin, his own fingers yanking the other pair of jeans down, leaving red marks against the ivory hips as he sank to his knees.

"I want you," Matthew all but growled, his voice coming out as a rasp. Alfred nuzzled against the inside of his thigh before gently licking at the scratches from the rough fabric apologetically.

He loved being left with nothing but his senses to guide him; the deep huffs of Matthew's breath, the dark scent of arousal, the pressure bordering on pain as Matthew fisted his hair, and above all the look of surefire want that glazed lilac eyes.

"The food is going to get cold," he warned half-heartedly, and winced when something hard and plastic hit the side of his face.

"Shut up," Matthew ordered, his hand tightening on Alfred hair until he winced and moved with it, mouth turning up into a grin when his lips brushed against Matthew's cock.

One hand braced against his twin's hip, the other grabbing the bottle of vegetable oil, he breathed against the heated flesh, and ran his tongue along the vein while he opened the cap.

"You want me to fuck you, Mattie? Want me to take you bent over the counter in the kitchen?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Matthew snarled and Alfred felt the pull against his scalp, tugging him forward until he swallowed around the firm flesh.

He could feel it threatening to choke him, blocking off his air as he wheezed and loosened his jaw. Matthew's snickering was cut off abruptly when he hollowed his cheeks, sucking and working his tongue against the thickening arousal.

Alfred hummed, keeping his grip on Matthew's hips when they threatened to choke him again, and tilting the bottle to dampen his fingers with the slick liquid. Above him Matthew had his head thrown back, eyes shuttering, and stance widening unconsciously to accept more of Alfred between his legs.

Giving another firm suck, Alfred slid his finger up against his scrotum, tracing the skin there before moving back to push slowly inside, brushing against the muscles that relaxed to let him in. He could hear the breath escape from Matthew's lungs, could see the glint of teeth as they bit down into a swollen bottom lip. His twin was leaning firmly against the table, the barest glint of lilac watching him from beneath dark lashes as he pushed another finger in.

He drew back, swiping again the tip of Matthew's erection and grinning at the bitter taste of pre-cum. "You showered before I came back. You prepare yourself?"

The grin grew wider when Matthew nodded, the paler twin saying nothing to defend himself or explain, instead loosening his grip on Alfred's hair and cupping his cheek. Alfred tilted his head and caught the fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking them as a third finger was added, slick with oil.

"I'm ready," was all Alfred needed to hear, his fingers withdrawing as he stood, instantly moving to kiss Matthew's lips. His twin moved at the last minute and his kiss landed on the pale skin of Matthew's cheek.

"Fuck you too," he grumbled, not really offended, not really in the mood to be offended when Matthew's body was rubbing against his so deliciously as they moved this onto the counter. Matthew's legs were tight against his hips as he slid inside, the friction rough but perfect. Just a bit too much pain for it to be all pleasure, but there in a way that reminded them of being human.

Alfred pushed on the back of Matthew's thighs, unlocking them and bringing them to rest higher on his body as he moved his hips forward. The fabric of Matthew's shirt bunched in Alfred hands as he wrapped his fingers in it, using it to keep his brother from moving too far away. The vice like grip Matthew on his arms and hips burned against his skin, searing away all pretexts he might have had, anchoring him and drawing him closer.

Here was everything he wanted and his gaze fixed itself on Matthew's face, watching each slight movement as their bodies moved together in sync. This was what they were, they were made for each other, a thought that Matthew laughed at before giving Alfred a searing kiss whenever he voiced it out loud.

"Hurry the fuck up," Matthew growled beneath him, and Alfred blinked before grinning and giving a particularly vicious thrust of his hips that slid them further onto the counter.

"Whatever you want, babe. Whatever you fucking want."

* * *

"You heading into town tomorrow?" Alfred asked later, sitting at the table in unbuttoned jeans and staring at a green bean that was impaled on his fork with disinterest.

"I'm planning to. Fred wanted to trade a few things for some of our produce," Matthew said with a shrug as he cut another small piece of chicken, "Did you want to join?"

Alfred looked over and grinned, his tongue darting out to trace over his chipped canine tooth, "I think I could do with some new scenery. Get to know our neighbours a bit better."

The pleased look on Matthew's face sent a small thrill through his body, still working its magic on him even after all these years.

"After all," he continued, "They must be asking about your husband by now. Wouldn't want anyone taking liberties just because I'm not around, now can I."

Matthew's snort was answer enough, and he grinned, crunching the bean between his teeth as he stared out through the window into the fields that surrounded their little farmhouse.

Nothing and no one were going to try and separate them again. Not without getting burned in the process.

* * *

**If you were confused: the envelope had all the papers necessary to start a new life in Northern Canada, and Matthew arranged it so that they were husbands instead of siblings. In exchange for these papers he agreed to play assassin in a gang war, which is why he killed that guy in prison. I also changed their appearance to match that of their 2P counterparts except that their eyes are the same their normal design.**


End file.
